I always let my creature choose what we shift into. If I chose, we’d definitely shift into something cool, like a bald eagle, an emu, or a saber-toothed tiger. Because, apparently, I can shift into any animal that’s ever existed.
Discovering I could shift into something other than a white tiger after drinking the tiger lily potion at eighteen was a shock, to say the least. I was blissfully unaware I’m some sort of abomination until I shifted by myself for the first time. Instead of turning into a tiger, my creature shifted me into a massive albatross.
Once I got over the shock of being able to turn into something other than an overgrown house cat, I started experimenting with what I can do. I haven’t found any limit to what I can change into, other than it had to have existed at some point.
So, no dragons, unicorns, or phoenixes for me. Though that would be pretty cool if I could.
But a mastodon, pterodactyl, or dire wolf? Yep, I can shift into all of those. Not that I do it much, because someone’s bound to notice a giant winged dinosaur flying around sooner or later. I mostly stick to small birds, other than when I shift with Charlie or Coop.
My creature squawks at my calling what we can do an abomination, but I’m not wrong. To my knowledge, there’s noone else out there who can do what we do. That makes us pretty weird.
Luckily, it’s easy enough to keep what I can do under wraps. Other than my glowing neon-green eyes when I’m shifted, there’s nothing that marks me as different.
I let my creature fly around for a few hours, and I enjoy turning off my thoughts as I trust her to handle everything. She stays mostly in the sparrow-lark form until she spots something she wants to hunt. When that happens, she turns into a large reddish-brown hawk before dive-bombing the poor rodent and munching on it.
Once I start to sense exhaustion from her, I take over control and direct us back to the clearing. Landing gracefully, I let the change flow over me once more until I’m human again.
Although the area is a good thirty-minute hike from the road, I still hurry to put on my clothes, not wanting to be naked if someone stumbles by. Once I’m dressed, I check that my helmet is still buckled securely to my backpack and sling the whole thing over my shoulder.
As I trek back to the parking lot, I find my thoughts wandering back to the guys. It’s only been a few days since I saw Hal, but it’s been a while since I’ve seen the rest of them. A part of me, that I don’t want to acknowledge, misses them, even though I don’t really know any of them.
I do my best to smother that part of me because nothing but trouble can come from caring about any of them. I just need to do my best to forget about them. That’s easier said than done because it feels like they’re everywhere. It’s hard to act like they don’t exist when they crash into my life every week or two.
Shaking my head as I break through the trees, I stomp toward my bike, my frustration with myself leaking into every step.
“Lark?” a deep voice calls from my right.
I whip my head around, and my gaze collides with an icy blue one. I almost swallow my tongue at how good Colt looks in his blue Henley and black jeans. The shirt hugs every inch of his muscular chest, and the sleeves are pushed up to reveal his strong forearms.
While Colt and Remy are identical twins, there are enough differences that I’m positive it’s Colt. His hair is less messy, he holds himself more confidently, and he isn’t bouncing off the walls with excess energy.
“Colt?” I ask before I get over my surprise at seeing one of the men I was just daydreaming about here. “Um, hi. How are you?”
Internally, I wince at how lame I sound. But I was so not prepared to see Colt here. I came out to this forest to get away from everyone and shift in peace. Not to bump into one of the guys I was just talking myself into never seeing again.
His lips curl up in a slight smile as he saunters over to me, stopping when he’s only a foot away. “I’m doing good. How about you?”
It feels kind of surreal to be engaging in small talk with him, like we’re casual acquaintances or something. Instead of strangers who keep bumping into each other. “I’m good, thanks.”
Picking up on my awkwardness, Colt takes over the conversation. “Whatcha doing out here?”
My eyes widen at his question before I blank my expression and shrug. “I was just, you know, hiking. Because I love hiking. Nothing better than hiking. What are you doing here?”
My voice gets weirdly high-pitched at the end, and I want to slap myself. I don’t want him to know about my strange ability to shift into anything, but I’m only drawing attention to the fact that I’m hiding something.
He quirks an eyebrow at me, clearly not believing my rambling. But he doesn’t call me on it. “I was just taking some pictures.” Colt holds up the camera dangling around his neck.
I grin at him. “That’s really cool. Could I see the pictures you took? If you don’t mind, of course.”
“I don’t mind.” He steps into my space and tugs me until my back is against his chest. I gasp at the contact as he pulls the camera off his neck and holds it in front of us. I’m so distracted by the feel of him against me that I don’t notice he started flipping through his pictures. “Most of these are just standard nature shots, but I did see a really cool bird today. It should be here somewhere.”
He pauses when he finds what he was searching for, giving me a chance to check it out.
My breath stalls in my chest as I get a good look at the image. Colt somehow managed to get a shot of me in sparrow-lark form with my neon-green eyes on full display.
“That is a pretty bird,” I manage to force out. My heart is thundering so loud in my ears, I can barely hear myself respond.
“Yeah, it is. I don’t think it’s native to this area, but the eyes are really what stand out. It almost reminds me of…” Colt trails off before he shakes his head, the movement ruffling my hair. “Anyway, I just thought it was cool.”
